Long Lost Dream
by Wendy Raimi
Summary: Takes place 2 years before SH - Young Masbath and his father must cope with the death of their dearest treasure...their Dream.


Long Lost Dream

Wendy Raimi

Disclaimer: We all wish I owned Masbath...but alas, the only thing I own is his mother. She's only mentioned in Sleepy Hollow, but I..I give her life! And I give life to a few of the towns people. But anyone else belongs to Tim Burton. Lucky guy, ain't he?

Warning: There is mentioning of blood and it's whereabouts, but it's pretty much PG rated blood.

BTW: A fortnight is two weeks. In Shakespeare it is 14 days, last I remember. ^_^

Extra Note: This is a very deep story dealing with death, destruction, and how one little boy deals with it.

Long Lost Dream

"Joseph Masbath, for the last time, will you please read from the Bible for me?" Reve Masbath, who truly was a dream, asked of her little 11 year old son. Joseph smiled and picked up the thick black bible from a table and sat down next to his 7 month pregnant mother and asked, "Chapter and verse, please." Reve rubbed her rather large belly and thought. Suddenly she bit her lip. "Psalm 23, and hurry Joseph." Masbath frowned, but quickly turned the light sheets of the Bible to the Psalm. He began to read:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose; besides restful waters he leads me; 

As Joseph recited the passage, his mother recited along, looking straight ahead at the wall. 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no---

Reve screamed such a piercing scream that Joseph quickly pressed his hands against his ears. His mother moaned and fell back against her chair, still giving a light moan.

"Mother!" cried Joseph, quickly holding onto her arm.

"Go get your father Joseph, and Beth Killian, quickly!" she said, her eyes closed, her hand waving her son away. Joseph quickly ran from the Van Garrett coach house and out to find his father. 

Joseph ran across town, crying out as he went, "Beth Killian! Beth Killian! Help!" The whole town heard the boy's voice. They knew it well. He was the loudest boy in the Hollow, many believed him to be related to Paul Revere. He finally made it to the midwife's home, and she was all ready out, past the porch and waiting for Joseph to approach.

"Joseph, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"My mother!...I don't know." he said, out of breath, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

"Go to your father. I'll help your mother." said Beth as she picked up the reins of the horse that Joseph had not seen. She hopped onto the horse and it ran. Joseph sighed, and ran out into a far pasture, calling for his father. 

Joseph had found his father and together they had ran quickly back to the coach house. Jonathan entered the house, but put a hand behind him, signalling that Joseph should stay outside. He did. He waited on the front porch, and closed his eyes as he heard his mother screaming. Once, her scream had been so loud, Joseph had looked into the sky, tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks. _She is dying._ Joseph thought. He blessed himself, forehead, heart, left shoulder, right shoulder.

__

Our father, who art in heaven, hollowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as those trespasses we forgive others, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus Christ. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for our sins, now and at the hour of our death.

And then one more...one, he didn't know where he had gotten it from, but memorized all the same....

__

Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commence me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.

Softly he said, "Amen" and blessed himself once again. He prayed to God, hoping he would know these prayers were for his mother and not himself. After a moment, the screaming had stopped and Joseph smiled, thinking his mother was all right. He stood and opened the front door, making his way to his parents room and as he opened the door, 

Jonathan Masbath, Beth Killian and Doctor Lancaster looked to the young boy.

"Joseph! Don't come in here!" Jonathan said, anger in his voice. But Joseph ignored it and looked at his mother. She was white as the....the sheets...were stained....with blood. Blood was everywhere. The most blood was on Beth and Lancaster's hands. His father's shirt was covered in it. It was everywhere, and the coppery smell of it invaded Joseph's senses. It all invaded Joseph's senses. Beating him down with it. Not letting it go.

"Mamma?" he asked, as tears filled his eyes and he slowly walked to his mother. The three others moving out of his way. The boy would have to know. Joseph tucked a strand of the light brown hair behind his mother's ear. Within minutes, Joseph's face was wet with the tears of his heart, which was now broken. "Mamma." he whispered and slowly carressed his mother's cheek, like she had done to him on all the night's he had come home, tired and frightened from the unknown.

"Mamma. Please. Wake up. I need you mamma." Joseph said softly. But Reve did not answer. She lay there. Quiet and soft. No breath. No life. Joseph turned to the three grown-ups, looking for answers, but they had none to give. His face filled with hurt and distrust, he ran out of the house and into the one place everyone always told him not to go.

The Western Woods

If someone counted time, it would be Septemember 1st. Autmun was slowly slipping in, but the Western Woods claimed it was winter. The trees were never lush, and now they were all most bare. Leaves were brown or yellow, and many had fallen off, making a crunching noise as Joseph ran down the paths. Tears ran down his cheeks, his breathing was heavy, his mind almost empty except for just a few sentences which kept repeating themselves.

__

As I walk through the valley of the Shadow of death, I fear nothing....the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, for as I walk through the valley of the Shadow of death I fear nothing...the Lord is my shepherd...I shall not want....

It repeated itself over and over again in his mind. It was the passage of the Bible his mother had made him memorize. He had it memorized since he was six. She had made sure he knew it perfectly. In Joseph's concious mind, the passage ran through his head, but in his unconcious, the one thing he would probably someday forget, was the kindness of Reve. 

Most mothers had fought to put their children to bed at night, and to do so they told them if they did not sleep, the Hessian would rise to take their heads. For the Hessian came out at night to take the heads of the children who did not sleep. Years later it would be them the most traumatized from the famed Horsemen story. He had become real, he had taken heads. He had taken Thomas Killian. 

Amazingly enough, Joseph only heard the tale of the Horsemen once. From another boy who lived in the Hollow. He had retold the tale to Joseph. To get little Joseph to go to bed, Reve had told a completely different tale.

There had been a man, a very long time ago, by the name of Jacob. He was travelling, and as he was travelling it soon became dark. So he lay down and used a rock as a pillow. 

Jacob dreamed, and in his dream he saw a ladder set up on the ground. The top went all the way to heaven, and angels of God were going up and down on it. The Lord stood on the top of the ladder and said to Jacob: 

"I am the Lord God of Abraham and the God of Issac. The land on which you lie I will give to you and your children. Your children shall be as the dust of the Earth and you will spread abroad, to the west, to the east, to the south, and to the north. Through you and your children, all the families of the earth will be blessed. I will always be with you Jacob." Jacob awoke and was amazed. He poured oil onto his rock pillow and set it up as the house of the Lord, saying that if the Lord protect him on his journey, he would take the Lord as his God. 

By the time Reve finished the story, Joseph would be asleep, and Jonathan would try to not show his displeasure. There was one thing that was different between Reve and the community of Sleepy Hollow. Reve was a Catholic, the entire town was Protestant. No one really minded though, and Reve raised her boy as a Catholic. That was why Joseph knew so many formed prayers. That was why Joseph was just a bit different from all the others.

So, Joseph had no fear of the Western Woods, and by the time he got tired, it was past twilight and he found himself in the middle of the Woods. Exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically, Joseph dropped, like a rock, onto the ground and was asleep even before then. Above, a raven watched.

Reve's death was probably the most confusing thing the town of Sleepy Hollow had to deal with. Wedding's were easy for them to understand. The death of elders was even understandable. But Reve had been young, beautiful, and pregnant. Her death was also the death of Pearl. The child had been born, one could say, but it had been dead on arrival. A still born. The baby had been a girl, just like Reve had said. 

"Jonathan, we all ready have a boy. A first born no less! This time, God will give us a girl. When he does we shall call her Pearl. A precious Pearl to go with our Joseph. We should be so blessed. Think of it Jonathan. I have heard that there are some women who are lucky if they even have one child! Pearl Rebekah Masbath. She shall be the precious coat to our Joseph." Reve had explained to her husband the moment she had found out she was pregnant. Reve never talked about the baby though in front of Joseph. 

"Mamma, where do babies come from?"

"From God Joseph. God sends them to us."

"Are babies good?"

"They are blessings Joseph."

"Was I a blessing?"

"You are the greatest gift God has ever given me Joseph."

Those were the kind of conversations Reve had with her son. 

"What will our baby be like Mamma?"

"We musn't talk about the baby's future Joseph, to do so God will think we want to go against his plans and will take the baby away from us."

But secretly, Joseph imagined how he would play with his new sister. And in Joseph's mind, it was him who had killed his sister and mother. They had died because Joseph had imagined playing with his sister and helping his mother take care of the family. Joseph's mother had said to talk of the future was to go against God. Joseph had imagined. Joseph had killed. 

"I'm sorry God! Bring back my Mamma!" Joseph cried to the dawn. He had waken five minutes before the sun came up over the horizon and as he saw it, he remembered.

"I'm sorry God. Please. I need my Mamma." Joseph sobbed into his knees that he had brought up to his chest as he had sat on the ground, thinking of the past.

He sat there, no one knew for how long, but he had sat there, crying, sobbing, stopping to wipe the tears with his shirt. Sighing, watching the birds as they went about their day. Thought about how beautiful his mother looked, and then took to crying again. His whole body was wracked with a pain that he was sure would never end. His heart hurt, it felt broken, he knew it was broken. It was bleeding with his crying. He cried out, just noise, no words, like an animal roaring, he cried out like a child wailing. He began to cough, and he felt the tears invaded his mouth. He choked and spat into his hands. And he continued to retch just plain mucus into his hands. Coughing and choking while tears continued to fall down his cheek. Finally, he took a deep breath and sighed. The tears had stopped once again, the choking and coughing subsided and he hiccouped. He looked at his hands and frowned. He wiped his hands on a tree, trading mucus for bark dust onto his hands. He wiped the back of his hand onto his cheek and looked around. He could cry no longer. There were no more tears left. For now at least. It was almost evening once again. Where had the day gone? It didn't matter now. He wanted to be clean. He wanted water. He looked around and began to make his way out of the Woods.

Evening in Sleepy Hollow. Everyone was inside, having dinner, or preparing their household for bedtime. Evening prayers were being said, and Young Joseph Masbath wandered through the small village, making his way home. His face was serious. He slowly swore to himself and to God he would never smile again. What was there to smile about? His mother was dead. 

He slowly opened the door to his home, the Van Tassel coach house, and walked inside. Jonathan Masbath sat at the kitchen table, unshaven. There was no fire in the hearth and no food on the table. As Joseph entered, Jonathan looked up.

"Where have you been Joseph?" the father asked his son in a sullen voice, but one that was strict as well.

"The Western Woods." Joseph asked, emotion no where on his body. It was as if he was devoid of it anymore. Anger flared up in Jonathan and he stood.

"You never enter the Western Woods! Never! Do you hear me boy?! I don't need you to get killed! There's deamons in those woods! If I ever hear or see you entering those woods I will beat your hide raw boy! Do you understand?" Elder Masbath nearly screamed at his son. A fresh well of tears begin to make their way down Joseph's cheeks. He turned and fled the house running to the outside of the church.

He sat outside of the big white Danish church, not even entering it, just sitting outside near the white picket fence. His knees were pressed against his chest and his and arms rested on his knees. He sobbed softly, midnight passing on. Finally he looked up and wiped the tears from his cheeks with his hands. He turned to his side and began to dig in the soft black dirt. 

His friend, Marcus, had hid a knife near the church, really just for fun, but he had never returned to get it. Joseph decided he would get it. He finally struck the handle and pulled it out. It was really more like a hunting knife, with a white ivory handle, a picture of woods etched into the handle. It had been in Marcus' family for years. But Marcus and his family were dead. Killed in a fire at the beginning of the year. Joseph looked at the knife, the blade still clean, not even rusted. The handle had bits of dirt, but still, it was clean. 

Joseph stood and walked to the square of the village. There was a large board with various pieces of parchment of people telling the village and whoever walked by basic pieces of news or what not. Even though few in town could read. He looked to the east and watched as the rays of sunlight slowly hit the horizon, but the stars still twinkled out and the majority of the sky was a dark royal blue. He turned so his body and his head faced the town, where in a few hours people would be walking and sharing their goods. He lifted his head to towards the sky, exposing his neck to the cool autumn breeze of Septemember. He lifted the blade of the knife and gently placed it near the left side of his neck. The blade was ice cold against his skin and he all ready knew it was as sharp as a blade could be. A tear fell down his cheek and he knew that in a few moments he would be with his mother, because surely his father couldn't care if the boy lived. 

He pressed the blade into his skin, it began to burn and little droplets of blood began to spill. He pushed deeper and slowly began to pull down, but as he reached the front of his neck, he felt it begin to grow dark, fast. It was hard to breathe and as he fell to the ground, he went unconscious. 

It was Elizabeth Van Tassel, out for a morning walk to go pick some arrowroot, who found Joseph Masbath lying in the town square, bleeding to death. She gasped, recognizing the boy so well. She knew the only proper reaction for a lady like her. She screamed a loud piercing scream and within minutes the town square was filled with people chattering, crying and Elizabeth and Dr. Lancaster picking up the boy and taking him to the Doctor's office. 

Dr. Lancaster quickly cleaned the wound, inspected it for infection and damage and then slowly sewed it up. 

"Will he be all right Doctor?" asked Elizabeth, worried. Dr. Lancaster took a deep breath and let it out into a half sigh.

"I am not sure Lady Van Tassel. The wound wasn't too deep, but it was deep enough it will leave a scar. Physically he should be all right. Emotionally though....he may be dead for weeks." 

Elizabeth nodded as the Doctor left to go into his private chambers. Lady Van Tassel stayed in the room with Joseph.

"Mamma!" Young Masbath croaked out into a soft painful voice. His eyes popping open, his body alert and his throat and neck in serious pain.

"Joseph, I am here Young Masbath, it is I, Lady Van Tassel. Do not speak. Your body needs to heal." she said softly to the boy, holding his hand now. A tear slid down Masbath's cheek and he turned his head to see Elizabeth. He gave a slight smile and held out his arms, clutching and unclutching his hands into fists, a sign Elizabeth knew well for hug. And she did, she hugged Young Masbath, tightly. Elizabeth had known Reve Masbath well. It was the two woman together who helped raise Katrina and Joseph, even though their ages differed greatly, the family's were good friends. 

After a moment Elizabeth looked into Joseph's eyes.

"Do not talk for a while. You need to heal. No one is angry with you. We just want to know why and when you have healed, will you tell us?" Elizabeth asked gently. Joseph nodded very slowly. Elizabeth kissed his forehead.

"I will send Katrina later to help bring you home. To our home. Your father needs to heal as well. Baltus is taking care of him as well as Mrs. Lancaster. I am leaving now Joseph, all right?" Joseph nodded again and Elizabeth left.

That night Joseph slept in a soft feather bed at the Van Tassel home. The one in which only a few years later, Ichabod Crane would sleep in. Only by then the matress would be changed to straw and devoid of anything comfortable. Elizabeth kept the room lovely, smelling of Lilac and with portaits of people. 

In the morning Elizabeth entered the room and smiled at the boy who sat up in bed.

"Did you sleep well?" Elizabeth asked with a kind face.

"No. I don't sleep anymore." Joseph croaked out in a non-emotional voice. Elizabeth ohed softly. Elizabeth gave a quick nod and looked back at the boy.

"Why Joseph? Why end your life?"

"My mother is dead. My sister is with her. My father swore if I ever disobeyed him he would beat me. My father never loved me. I would rather die." Joseph croaked out and then moaned in pain as he rest his head on his pillow. Elizabeth nodded.

"Young Masbath, Katrina and I are going to teach you how to clean, cook, and sew. Your father is going to learn how to be patient from Mrs. Lancaster. In a few months we are going to put you both back in your home. There is just one catch. Doctor Lancaster has said that your voice will never be loud as it was. In fact, it will never be louder then just about your highest whisper." Masbath nodded.

In the Autumn of 1799, that would all change...

Long Lost Dream and Reve Masbath are all Copyright (C) Wendy Raimi July 22, 2000


End file.
